Me and You and Daisies: The DVD Extras
by Lingering Lilies
Summary: One-shots related to the Lopez-Pierce Family as depicted in "Me and You and Daisies"
1. Bejeebus

A/N: There was a recent Tumblr glitch that caused a bit of data loss on my page. Luckily it was jut a few posts, but I had a moment of late-night panic when I realized I have a bunch of stories on my page that I haven't backed up anywhere else. I'm uploading the MaYaD-related oneshots here so all can enjoy. Each chapter is a different story and there's nothing tying them all together except the sacred love of Brittany and Santana and their cute little babies. Enjoy.

* * *

**"Bejeebus"**

* * *

Brittany's knees ached against the tile floor beside the bathtub. She leaned forward to scoop up a full cup of water to pour over three-year-old — pardon, three-_andahalf!_-year-old Ruby's shoulders and pudgy little belly. Ruby grinned up at her, giggling in delight as she crowed "Another waterfall, Mom-ny!" Brittany smiled and scooped up more water, pouring it over her daughter.

Brittany reached for the shampoo and rubbed it between her hands before signaling to Ruby they had moved to that portion of the bath. Ruby sat up straight and tilted her head back, keeping her neck strong as Brittany sudsed the baby shampoo into her thick black hair. Feeling the slip of her daughter' hair between her fingers was calming. She could see Ruby grin, almost purring like a cat as her scalp was gently scratched. Then Brittany folded a dry washcloth and held it up to Ruby's eyes, letting Ruby grasp it before she searched out the floating cup and scooped up water to rinse the shampoo out. She saw tiny creases form at the sides of Ruby's eyes as Ruby squinted beneath the washcloth, determined to block out any shampoo the washcloth didn't catch. Brittany repeated the motion, watching the bubbles slide out of Ruby's hair into the bath water.

About halfway through the rinse, Ruby opened her mouth. "Mom-ny, where's my bejeebus?" she asked.

"Your what?" Brittany asked, preparing to have another Body Parts conversation with her daughter.

She had had this conversation many times over the years, most often in the bathtub. When Caleb had been small, he would point to parts of his body and she would name them, always with clinical terms. "That's your shoulder," she'd say, and he'd repeat the word. "That's your foot," she'd said, and he'd repeat. Then, with a sneaky smile, he'd point to the faucet and she'd say, "That's the shower's knee." Caleb would double forward laughing, then go back to pointing at places on his own body before finding another object for Brittany to "name."

Ruby had never made a game out of the Body Parts conversation, but she had a natural amount of curiosity.

"My _bejeebus_," Ruby said, as though it were a well-known body part. "Where is it?"

Brittany smiled at Ruby, even though Ruby couldn't see her from under the washcloth. Since starting day care, Ruby had brought home dozens of words she didn't know the meaning of and didn't always pronounce correctly.

"You don't have a penis, Ruby," Brittany said. They'd had this conversation before. "You have a vagina, just like me and Mama."

"I _know_ that," Ruby said, sounding annoyed as she spat some water away from her mouth. "But everyone has a bejeebus."

Brittany frowned, pouring the last cup of water over Ruby's head and watching as the water ran clear down her back. "I don't think that's what it's called, Ruby," she said. "I never heard 'Wello 'Tonio talking about a bejeebus, and he knows all about the human body."

"Well he _should_ know," Ruby said, as though she was disappointed in her grandfather. "Maybe he could figure out a way for people to stop getting theirs scared out."

"Scared out?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah," Ruby said, growing frustrated as she plunked the washcloth down into the water and looked up at Brittany. "Someone needs to figure out how to help people not get their bejeebusses scared outa them."

At that, Brittany broke into quiet laughter. She loved how her daughter's mind worked. Everything was still so tangible to her, so literal and important.

She leaned forward, grinning. "Oh, I remember," she said, pointing to the dip in Ruby's breastbone that rested above her round little belly. "Your bejeebus is right here. It helps you be brave. You know it's working when you get scared but do something anyway."

Ruby mulled this over, tucking her chin to look at where he mother's finger was resting on her chest. "But it can get scared out?" she asked, concerned.

"Not yours," Brittany said. "You have a good one. That's why you're the bravest girl I know."

Ruby beamed up at her mother, proud. Then her grin turned sneaky and she said, "We should see if we can get Mama's to jump out sometime."

Brittany chuckled, amused by her daughter's wicked impulses. "Oh, don't you worry," she said, mostly to herself. "You do that every day without trying."


	2. Mothers' Day

Mothers' Day

I woke to the soft patter of Caleb's feet in our carpet. Ruby was still trapped in her crib, though from the sound of the monitor by your side of the bed, I could tell she wasn't awake yet. For once.

Caleb made his way to the foot of the bed, trying to be quiet. He's five now, and getting taller and smarter and more handsome every day.

You were still fast asleep, the look of sweet relief on your face as you snoozed like an exhausted kitten. Ruby had resisted her bedtime like usual, and you had worked late into the night after she'd finally gone down.

I felt Caleb hovering at the foot of the bed and wondered why he didn't walk to one side like he usually does. When he's hungry for more than a rice cake or a banana, he comes to my side of the bed, and when he's had a bad dream, he goes to your side. I could feel him standing at the foot of the bed, and even though my eyes were still closed, I could feel his anxiety. There's something palpable about it that breaks my heart. It's the same kind of throb I feel whenever you are anxious, only magnified times a thousand because he is our son and I never want him to feel pain or discomfort. It's our job to protect him from that. But his nervousness is part of what makes him who he is, and I love everything about him.

I took a deep breath and tried to make it seem like I was waking naturally, rather than being awoken. Caleb feels guilty when he wakes one of us up, which is why he usually hovers, pretending he's looking at the photos on our nightstand or the light falling onto the carpet through the slatted blinds. I tried to rouse slowly, so he would be convinced. I rolled halfway onto my back and cracked my eyes open, smiling down at him.

"Hi, baby," I whispered.

He gave me a nervous smile in return, with a little wave. He didn't want to wake you. He knows what it's like to be a light sleeper.

He fidgeted for a moment, stepping back and forth in the carpet, feet soft and unsure. His heightened anxiety worried me because it was at an unusual level for this time of day.

I gave him a smile that I hoped would reassure him, propping myself up on one elbow. He wouldn't meet my eyes, and that's when I saw it. There was a construction paper card placed at the foot of the bed, right between where our feet formed soft twin mounds. On the front was a heart with his purple handprint stamped on it.

I sat all the way up and reached for it. Caleb got more flustered.

"Is this for me?" I whispered.

Caleb didn't answer, his eyes darting around the floor.

I picked up the card and saw on the inside where he had been given a printed insert that said "Happy Mother's Day!" which he had colored and signed his name under.

"Aw, Caleb, this is beautiful," I assured him in a whisper. "Thank you so much."

Caleb didn't relax though, as his gaze flitted to you.

And then I understood. Caleb's teacher hadn't thought to let him make two cards, and he was scared we would be disappointed that he hadn't made one for each of us.

I didn't want to call attention to his adorable little dilemma. It wasn't his fault that his teacher was overworked and underpaid. I know that if she had thought of it, and if Caleb hadn't been too shy to ask for a second card, that she would have given him another card to color.

"C'mere, buddy," I said, patting the edge of the mattress next to me.

Caleb walked toward my side of the bed, chin tucked down.

"You know what one of the things I love most about being married to your Mama is?" I asked.

He shook his head, looking up at me for the first time in a minute.

"I love sharing everything with her. I get to share her shampoo and her shoes and her food. And I get to share you and Ruby."

Caleb played with his fingers, not understanding what I was trying to say.

"And I love that I get share this card with her," I said. "Not many moms get to share such a beautiful card."

At that he relaxed, leaning forward to rest his head on my lap in gratitude.

"Mama will love it, Cay," I assured him.

He took a deep breath before whispering, "Leb."


	3. One True Love

Prompted by a reader...

* * *

**"One True Love"**

* * *

Five-year-old Ruby walked into the kitchen to find her Mama working.

"What's up, Roo?"

"Nothin'." She grabbed a grape out of the bowl to munch on. "Where's Mom-ny?"

"She's gardening outside, making sure the flowers grow up like you." Santana looked at her daughter, who was clearly contemplating something while she ate happily. Santana went back to her contracts and a few moments later

"Mama, is Mom-ny your one true love?"

Santana looked up, surprised. "Where'd you learn that term, Roo?"

"Book," Ruby said with a casual shrug as she popped another grape in her mouth.

"What book?"

Ruby chewed and swallowed before frowning up at Santana. "All of them."

"All the books?" Santana asked, clarifying.

"All the ones worth reading," Ruby said, as though she were exhausted with having to explain things to her mother.

Santana set down her file and leaned closer to her daughter. She was concerned about Ruby's prioritizing romance above adventure and her own curiosity. That kind of single-mindedness had trapped many of the women Santana served at the Center for Domestic Peace.

"Ruby, there are lots of stories that are worth reading that aren't about love. Remember _Ferdinand_? He didn't have one true love. You _love_ that book."

Ruby sighed and rolled her eyes in a frighteningly familiar expression. "He _did_ have a one true love. He loved being peaceful and smelling _flowers_."

Santana relaxed, realizing Ruby wasn't zeroing in on romance as a barometer of a woman's worth. If anything, Ruby's understanding of love was wise beyond her years. Ruby hadn't differentiated passion and romance. To Ruby, pacifism could be love the same way marriage could be. Santana leaned back in her seat, smiling again.

"You're right. Ferdinand's one true love was peace and flowers. I guess you could say he was a hippie."

"Is Mom-ny a hippie?" Ruby asked.

Santana turned and looked over her shoulder out the window, where she could see Brittany stooped over a tomato plant.

"I guess she is," Santana smiled.

"And is she your one true love?" Ruby asked again.

Santana turned back to her daughter, warmer now at the reminder of what was important to her. She put her hand over her daughter's.

"Well, I got pretty lucky, Roo. I have four true loves."

"_Four_?" Ruby exclaimed.

Santana nodded, enjoying the alarm on Ruby's face. "I love your Mom-ny, I love you, I love Caleb, and I love helping people find peace and justice."

Ruby's eyes were wide for a moment before she asked, "So you can have more than one true love?"

Santana nodded. After all, she fell more in love with her daughter every day. "You can have as many loves as your heart can hold, Roo."


	4. Kissing

**"Kissing"**

* * *

I smiled at our four-year-old daughter in the rearview mirror as she clambored into her carseat, her seven-year-old brother following not far behind, weary and frayed at the edges from their long day at school.

"How was school, guys?" I asked, trying to bolster Caleb until he could get home and have a snack.

"Good," Caleb sighed, snapping his seatbelt into his booster seat.

"I saw something _yucky_ on the playground," Ruby declared, as though she had seen something truly revolting.

"Oh yeah? What was it, Roo?"

"I saw one of the fifth grade girls kissing a _boy_." Ruby giggled as if it was the most insane thing she'd ever seen.

Caleb looked at me in amusement as I tried to contain a laugh. "Kissing a boy, huh?"

"Yeah. So yucky."

"Why was it yucky?"

"Because girls kiss girls and boys kiss boys," she said, as though that were the most obvious thing on earth.

I tried to fathom how Ruby had gotten this idea. Of course she was used to you and I kissing, but it was hard to believe that she'd never seen a man and a woman kiss in a casual context.

But then she added. "Boys and girls only kiss on TV. Or on the cheek if they're good friends."

Ruby's self-created logic was beyond amusing.

"That's not true, Ruby," Caleb said, patient as ever. "Grownups can kiss whoever they want."

"No, you have to pick one person forever," Ruby declared with certainty.

"Have you picked your person?" I asked her, eager to hear her response.

"No…" she said, slightly sad at the prospect.

"It's okay, Ruby," Caleb said. "It's because you're special and special people can only kiss other special people."

Ruby seemed to mull this over for a second, but I had to seize the opportunity to explain that human sexuality isn't so black and white.

"Caleb's right," I said. "Special people can only kiss other special people forever, if they want that. But it doesn't matter if you pick a boy or a girl. You can be special with any kind of special person."

Ruby frowned, so I continued. "Before I was with your Mama, I kissed boys and girls. If I had never met your Mama, I would still kiss boys and girls. It's okay to kiss whoever you want."

Ruby seemed alarmed at the prospect of me kissing anyone but you. "What about Mama?"

"Well, Mama kissed some boys too, but she likes kissing girls best. If she didn't marry me, she would only kiss girls."

Ruby's eyes seemed to settle, since at least something was black and white. "Well that's good," she said. "I hope they don't have germs."

The kids looked out their respective windows for a minute as we journeyed home before Ruby thought of something. "Hey, wait!" she protested. "Mama kisses Caleb!"

I smiled at her in the mirror. "Those are a different kind of kisses," I explained.

"Yeah, not the lovey-dovey kind," Caleb chimed in. "They're not the kind that means you want to go to the movies and hold hands the whole time."

Ruby settled back down in relief. "Kissing is confusing," she grumbled.

I giggled and said nothing, glancing back at Caleb who was smiling back at me in amusement.


	5. Pink Box

Prompted ficlet: "Pink Box"

You were lazily sprawled after a long day of work with me playing with the soft skin of your tummy with my fingers. I know you love that.

Ruby came running into the living room and stood in front of us with a devilish smirk. You've must been really tired because that smile usually worries you and this time you just buried your nose in my neck as if asking me to take care of it.

"What's up Roo?" I asked.

"Mom-ny! I found a pink box under your bed! Is it for me?"

I felt you go rigid on top of me. Ruby had inadvertently discovered our - thankfully _locked_ - sex toy box.

"You're not supposed to go in our room when we're not in there, Roo," you grumbled.

"But my feet just took me there!" she proclaimed. "Is the box for me?" she repeated.

A flicker of amusement passed through me, and I put my hand on your back in what I hoped you would understand as an _I told you that ridiculous glittery box was a bad idea_ gesture.

I could practically feel that cold fear coursing through you and couldn't resist messing with it a little bit.

"Nooo," I drawled out. "That box is not for you, Roo. But we did get it with you in mind."

Ruby's face lit up as though I had promised her cookies.

"Did we?" you almost spat in objection against my collar bone.

"Uh huh," I said, giddy delight mounting as I goaded you. "We got it to lock up all the things that go bump in the night."

I could feel you cringe against me as Ruby's brow crinkled in confusion.

"Go bump in the night?" Ruby asked.

"Yep," I said. "We locked up anything that might be confusing or make noise when you're trying to sleep."

"Oh?" Ruby said, seeming intrigued.

I realized that perhaps I hadn't made the box foreboding enough to deter her curiosity.

"The problem is," I said, trying to sound regretful. "You can't let them out. They have to stay in there locked up or there will be lots of confusion and maybe some bad dreams."

"Bad dreams?" Ruby asked. She wasn't quite old enough to understand abstraction yet, so she was probably picturing monsters and snakes and spiders crammed together inside the glittery pink box.

"Yeah, and we wouldn't want you to have those," I said.

The bewildered look on our daughter's face was so priceless, I felt your stomach tensing as I held in my laughter.

You piped up, "We're going to take it far, far away soon," you said. "So you don't have to worry about anything escaping."

Ruby gave a stiff nod, as though that were the responsible thing to do. "That's good," she said.

"Uh huh," you said.

We stared at her with plastered-on smiles, hoping she would drop the subject and return to whatever mischief she'd been up to before she discovered the box. When she did, you buried your head deeper against my neck.

"Oh my god," you muttered. "That wasn't funny, Britt."

"I know," I mused. "It was hilarious."

"She's gonna go try to open it now," you groaned.

"She'll wait a few minutes," I said.

You paused. "You sure?"

I thought for only a moment before I realized that our daughter's craftiness knows no bounds. "No, we should probably put it in the attic," I said, pushing both of us up.


	6. Caleb and the Rogue Ruby

**"Caleb and the Rogue Ruby"**

* * *

Eight-year-old Caleb stuck his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he gripped his shiny new pencil and concentrated on writing his name at the top of his worksheet. Today was his first day of second grade. His new teacher was very pretty and had nice teeth when she smiled. He'd been working hard on reading all summer and he hoped she would notice. He wanted his new teacher to like him, so he sat up straight and focused on his work, trying to drown out the scuffling and scraping around the classroom. He heard a light tapping somewhere, but he ignored it.

_Tap, tap, tap._

After he had completed the first problem on his worksheet, the tapping came again.

_Tap, tap, tap._

He looked up at the window to his left and was horrified to see Ruby peering in at him, her puffy black pigtails tied with little pink bows on top of her head. She smiled and waved at him and he wondered how she could be looking in. She was so small, she usually couldn't see over the window ledge.

Whatever she was doing, it was clear to Caleb that it was not what she was supposed to be doing. She was supposed to be in her Kindergarten classroom on the other side of campus, safely behind the door under Mrs. Hanson's supervision. Perhaps it was her small size that had enabled her to weasel her way out without being noticed.

Caleb's heart raced. He didn't want his baby sister to get in trouble on her first day of Kindergarten. He knew it wasn't likely she'd go all year without getting into some kind of mischief, but he wanted her to start the year off right. He knew she was smart, but she wasn't so good at following rules.

When they had been small and took their baths together, Caleb had tried every night for a month to explain that she could only splash if the curtain was closed so it didn't make a mess. Ruby took this to mean that she could only splash when Mom-ny or Mama weren't in the room. Caleb grew aggravated trying to explain that they would see the water on the floor and know she'd been splashing. But Ruby had always done things her way, and he had mopped up more puddles than he cared to remember.

Wanting to keep Ruby out of trouble on the first day of school, Caleb looked frantically around his classroom. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't safe for Ruby to be wandering around alone. The fifth graders were really big, and even though Caleb wasn't sure if they were mean, he didn't want Ruby to get in the middle of any arguments over Pokémon cards or One Direction pencils. His eyes scanned the room and fell on the bathroom pass. That was it! He was so relieved he'd thought of it.

Trying to stay calm, he raised his hand obediently and asked for the bathroom pass. His teacher, who had known him from the playground the year before, gave him a warm smile and let him take the pass.

Caleb left the room and immediately crouched down, glaring at Ruby and gesturing for her to hop down off her perch on one of the playground crates.

"Ruby!" he hissed. "What are you doing out here?!"

"I got bored!" Ruby whined.

Caleb held his finger to his lips as Ruby climbed off the crate.

"Where did you get that crate?" he asked, bending down so his head couldn't be seen by anyone inside the classroom.

"It was next to the ball cart," she said, pointing a hundred yards away to the edge of the blacktop. "I needed something to stand on."

"Ruby," Caleb scolded, growing impatient not to mention anxious that Ruby didn't seem to understand it wasn't okay to wander around school alone. "You can't leave your classroom just because you're bored."

Thankfully taking Caleb's hint that she needed to be quiet, Ruby whispered back, "But I already know my ABCs! I want to learn the stuff in there," she said, pointing toward Caleb's classroom.

"You're too little," Caleb frowned.

Ruby scowled and crossed her arms. Caleb realized that scolding her or making her feel small wasn't a good way to get her to go back to her classroom.

"How about this?" Caleb said, stepping closer to her as though making her a good deal. "You go back to Kindergarten and I'll teach you second grade stuff when we get home this afternoon."

Ruby dropped her scowl at that. "Okay!" she agreed.

Still hunched over, Caleb picked up the handle of the crate. "We need to put this back."

Ruby nodded and reached for the other handle, trotting beside Caleb as they scurried down the hall to the playground. They placed the crate by the ball cart and Caleb scanned the blacktop for any lurking adults. Seeing the coast was clear, he took Ruby's hand.

"What am I supposed to do in Kindergarten?" Ruby said as they neared her classroom. "I already know everything they're teaching me."

Caleb bit his lip, wondering what to tell Ruby. It was true, she knew every letter and number and shape and nursery rhyme. But he also knew there was a lot more to kindergarten than that. While he had struggled to learn to read — he was still working on it — he knew that he was really good at some things.

"Kindergarten isn't just about letters," he said sagely, with a degree of seriousness that was perhaps too much for the occasion. "Kindergarten is about learning how to do school."

"How to do school?" Ruby asked, scrunching up her nose.

"Yeah," Caleb said, more confident in his answer. "You gotta learn to sit still and share some things like toys and crayons and not share other things like germs. You gotta be nice to everyone so they'll invite you to their birthday party, and you especially gotta learn to tie your shoes. I know you already know your letters, but you don't know those other things so good."

Ruby looked at Caleb as though she had a newfound respect for him. "So if I get bored I should sit still or offer someone a crayon or practice tying my shoes?"

"Yup," Caleb said, glad she was realizing that kindergarten was serious business.

"What if I'm wearing sandals?" Ruby asked.

"I can't answer that for you," Caleb said regretfully. "But you'll figure it out."

At that point, they reached the door of Ruby's classroom and Caleb patted her on the head. "No more sneaking out, Peanut," he said. "You'll be in second grade soon enough."


	7. Changing

These little snapshots are in no particular order. I just want a place to keep them all safe. Here's a little snapshot from toddler!Caleb and newborn!Ruby.

* * *

**Changing**

* * *

When our son was born, I remember you sheepishly asking me to teach you how to change a diaper. Your hands were so unsure, so worried about hurting him, you almost didn't want to try. But once you realized he wouldn't shatter, you took on the task as though it was a competition; you were going to be the best diaper-changer in the history or diapers, which I imagine is a long and smelly history. You became such a pro at not only changing his diapers, but knowing when he needed to be changed, I hardly had to get out of bed the first week of his life. You would always talk to him in quiet Spanish while you cleaned him off and snapped him back up. At the time, I thought you were explaining to him what you were doing, but now I'm not sure. You could have been telling him about the stock market and I wouldn't have known. I didn't speak much Spanish then.

I don't remember the last time you changed his diaper. Or when I did, for that matter. I know he was potty trained before Ruby was born, which was a blissful break from lugging a diaper bag around, not to mention the smell. Dirty newborn diapers don't smell so bad, but by the time a child is two-and-a-half, they really start to stink. I was glad when he mastered the potty toward the end of your pregnancy.

When you and Ruby came home from the hospital, Caleb was on high alert for a week. I could tell from the way he hovered in doorways and observed you with anxious eyes that he wasn't so sure about Ruby. He studied her as one would a wild animal, prepared to run at the first sign of threat. When he realized that Ruby was harmless and helpless, he relaxed. He didn't like when she cried - baby girl had a set of lungs on her - but other than that, he tolerated having her around. We weren't sure if he was warming to her at all, and I grew worried that our family wouldn't adjust as easily as my mom told me it would.

One afternoon when Ruby was a month old, I heard her fussing in your office. I assumed you were doing work and trying to nurse her at the same time - always the multitasker, Santana. But she wasn't calming, so I went upstairs to see if I could help. Caleb followed me. Sometimes he's our little shadow like that.

I poked my head in your office.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," you sighed. "She's just fussy."

"I think that's just how she is," I said. "We were spoiled with the other one." Knowing Caleb was behind me, I didn't make any further comparison, but we knew it was true; with Caleb, we could put him in front of an open window and he would be content to watch the curtains blow in the breeze for hours. He's still like that in some ways. He's happy with simple things and he doesn't like change.

"Want me to check her diaper?" I asked.

"That'd be great," you said.

I stepped into the office and picked up Ruby. She was wriggling around, twisting her head back and forth as she scrunched up her face, threatening to turn her grunts and whines into full wails. I put her against my shoulder. "Okay, baby girl. Let's check your diaper."

I carried her across the hall into the nursery and carefully laid her down on the changing table, being sure not to set her head down too hard. Immediately her face relaxed and her eyes opened to look up at me. I took a moment to grin down at her. We've known how smart Ruby is since the day she was born, but the little things still fascinated me. Like how she knew by the feel of the surface beneath her that she was about to have her diaper changed. I swear she almost sighed in gratitude that I'd interpreted her needs correctly. She did _not_ like having a wet diaper, but she couldn't tell us that with words.

I set to work unsnapping Ruby's jumper. She has the cutest little clothes. She was wearing a pink pajama suit with feet that had a cupcake on the butt. Although she had calmed, her feet still kicked like a frog's and her arms wriggled in front of her. She was so tiny she still didn't have full control of her limbs. Even though it must have been frustrating to her, it was sometimes funny to watch her hit herself in the face and then look stunned.

Since she was kicking so much, it took me a few seconds to unsnap her little suit. Once I had eased her legs out of the bottom half, I felt a nudging next to my hip and knew Caleb was close by. Putting one hand on Ruby's belly to steady her, I smiled down at him. He was looking up at me with a nervous expression, his hand reaching under the table to where we kept Ruby's itty bitty diapers. He froze, looking like I'd caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

Then I looked at his other hand and saw, dangling from his chubby fist, one of his baby dolls, Baby Ben. Our friends Kelsey and Sasha sent us a package containing Baby Ben and a plastic truck when I was pregnant, saying that all kids needed to play with dolls and all kids needed to play with trucks. For the most part, Baby Ben had collected dust for the last few years, but when you got pregnant, we started bringing Baby Ben out often in hopes that Caleb would warm to the idea of having a baby around. He didn't really, other than to give Ben a name and occasionally feed him something he'd cooked in his play kitchen.

I understood immediately that Caleb was reaching for a diaper for his doll, and I adored him for it.

"Does Baby Ben need a diaper change too?" I asked.

Looking relieved, Caleb gave a solemn nod.

I gave Caleb an encouraging smile. "Here." I reached underneath and took out a diaper, handing it to him. Then I handed him a wipe. "Make sure he's clean before you put the fresh one on."

Caleb gave another nod and we both set to work changing our babies.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he laid Baby Ben on the floor - one of the doll's legs jutted out at a perplexing angle, but Caleb seemed to think it was okay - and made a show of wiping the crotch of the doll before opening the diaper. I quickly changed Ruby, snapping her back up and holding her on my shoulder as I watched Caleb. He was struggling: the diaper was backwards and he didn't have the fine motor skills to open and stick the tabs. As I watched him, I realized you'd been justified in your anxiety about changing him when he was first born. Changing a diaper is hard the first fifty times. As I watched Caleb, I took a moment to wonder at all the things we learn to do over the course of our lives.

He was still struggling after a few minutes, and just before I was going to ask if he wanted help, you appeared in the doorway. I met your eyes and your expression turned into one of pained adoration for our boy. You bit your lip, brow crinkling over a smile. You caught my eye and I felt all the love and wonder you have for our family flow telepathically between us.

Then, because you've always had a hard time watching him struggle, you stepped forward and said, "Hey, Caleb, want some help?"

"Yes," he said, not giving up for a second.

You stepped forward and helped him center and tape the diaper over his doll. Then he picked Baby Ben up by the arm and plodded over to the rocking chair. He set Baby Ben on the seat and attempted to climb up. But between his short legs and the unsteadiness of the chair, he couldn't get up.

Again, you offered to help him, and he nodded.

When he was finally in the chair, he drew his doll into his lap, holding the head in the crook of his pudgy arm, mirroring the exact way I was holding Ruby.

And I knew that in his toddler way, he was telling us that he thought Ruby was a nice addition to our family.

Bending forward to kiss him on the forehead, you murmured, "What a good papa you are to Baby Ben, Caleb."

He kept his gaze fixed seriously on his doll, and you raised your eyes to mine, beaming.


	8. Brazilians

**Prompted ficlet: "Brazilians"**

* * *

"Mama, what do you think of Brazilians?" Ruby asked as she clicked her seatbelt. They were on their way home from picking out Ruby's Junior Prom dress.

Santana could hear Ruby had something up her sleeve.

"I think they're just as awesome as Chileans and Bolivians," Santana said, buying herself time.

Ruby rolled her eyes. She had learned the Lopez eyeroll at four and perfected it by ten. At sixteen, even Santana was impressed.

"You know what I meant," Ruby grumbled.

Santana bit her lips and focused on the road. Ruby always brought up topics that made her squirm when they were in the car, probably because Santana couldn't get away.

"Well," Santana said, trying unsuccessfully to channel Brittany's ease with talking about anatomy and sexuality, "Just like the hair on your head, everyone has a right to style themselves however they're most comfortable." She wanted to be vague so Ruby would drop the subject, without condoning or condemning a particular practice. But as soon as she said it, she regretted it. The thought of her baby girl waxing when her body was still stretching and filling out and adjusting was too uncomfortable.

Ruby seemed to know this. She picked it up and ran with it. "Okay, cool. So you'd be fine if I got one?"

Santana gripped the steering wheel, holding back her anxious _hell no_. She shifted in her seat and sat up higher, desperately wishing Brittany were here to tell her what to say.

But knowing Ruby, they had already had this discussion.

"Did you ask Mom-ny about this?" Santana said.

"Yeah," Ruby said with forced casualness. "She said she'd be fine with it."

"She _did?_" Santana said, cool exterior crumbling.

"Yeah."

Santana started thinking about how she wanted to confront Brittany when she got home, but then she noticed Ruby was trying to stay composed and not laugh at Santana's panic. Her daughter was messing with her.

_Well, two can play that game,_ she thought. She bit back a smirk and straightened up.

"Well, why don't we stop by the salon on our way home!" she said with convincing enthusiasm. "We can go together! I have to warn you though, I scream pretty loud. Not as loud as during childbirth, but pretty close. It'll be a great bonding experience for us!" Santana looked over at Ruby with a painfully bright smile.

Ruby avoided eye contact.

Santana kept pushing.

"Let me call Hildegarde right now and see if she can squeeze us in," she said, whipping her phone out.

Ruby reached over and batted the phone out of Santana's hand.

"What was that for?" Santana asked, pretending to be offended as she kept up the charade.

Ruby's eyes were horrified as she slouched low in her seat. "Jeez, Ma, I was _kidding._"

Santana didn't stop there. "Oh you were? Really? Aw, Hildegarde will be so disappointed…"

Ruby covered her face with her hands, mortified.

Santana let a victorious smirk slide across her face.

After a minute of delicious silence while Ruby smoldered with embarrassment, Santana said quietly, "When you're eighteen, you can do whatever you want, Roo. Not 'til then."


	9. Love Isn't Love 'Til You Give It Away

**Love Isn't Love 'Til You Give It Away**

* * *

The first time I had to give love away, I was fifteen and suddenly you weren't kissing me because you were in love with me. Your words and your heart didn't match up. My clear, shining Santana got foggy and distorted. I was ripped apart, raw, and stunned that there was nothing I could do about it. My throat closed and my eyes stung and my stomach turned over and over like a lead ball on a marble run track.

I know why it had to happen that way. Nothing worth having comes easily. But I remember that sourness in my stomach, like a pit that demanded everything and nothing at the same time. Food didn't appease it, nor water fill its vastness. Only the closeness of your body when you were soft and wiped clear of your fog.

You were misty for months, and I waited, until suddenly, a glaring, bright light broke through. You wanted to erase all the things you'd said that weren't true. And you did. There weren't even fingerprints on the mirror anymore, you were so clear and honest. I saw myself in your eyes, the picture of what could be. It was so lovely and bright, I couldn't look at first. I backed away, trying to convince myself it was a mirage.

And then I realized that I had done no better than you, to lie like that. I didn't want him. Not like I wanted you. We were both just so scared. That empty pit, that hole in my heart, was fear morphing into different shapes and organs. I let it get too powerful.

The thing about fear is that it is folded into itself. We never truly know what we're afraid of, other than fear itself.

Fear is the thing that tells you that pain is forever and loneliness is the only permanence. But fear is a lie, and love the only truth.

We found truth, and kissed it into each other's skin as often as we could, singing it into the night, waking with it in the morning. Truth prevailed. And we were whole agin, rawness erased from our hearts as they filled and filled and filled with each passing day.

But truth is not always so black and white. Sometimes it's hard to know the truth from what is right. Sometimes the things that are right are not right-now. And that's why we had to give each other away again, ripping apart and feeling rawness consume us as if for the first time.

I was scared the truth would never find me again. I kept telling myself that it was temporary, no matter how black and bitter and endless the loneliness got. It was just for now. It would end, maybe in an hour or a week or ten years.

Nothing is infinite except the truth.

And you are my truth, my love, Santana. I've given love away again and again and received more than I ever dreamed of in return.

Now there are new loves for us to hold together. We created and we worried and our hearts broke and swelled and raced with each skinned knee and tiny tear and tantrum. We wondered why we'd thought this would be easy, now that our truth lies wrapped around a finger each, solid as diamonds, more precious with each passing year. Somehow we thought it would mean no more fear or loneliness or loss.

And yet, here we are, feeling ripped apart again.

These things sneak up on us not because we waiver, but because we are steadfast. We cannot hold this at bay, no matter how solid and sure we are in our love.

I don't understand how joy can be as bitter and huge as despair. Now we are out of the pit, at the pinnacle. We are wind-whipped and shaking and bursting with truth. They say that love is humble and patient and kind, but it is hard to feel humble at times like this.

I take a deep breath and hook my arm into the sturdy elbow at my side. I don't know who is struggling more to stay composed, you or me. I stare at the door, dreading and anxious and overjoyed. I listen to the muffled harp music on the other side, the whish of taffeta and the murmur of guests. I look up at your dad, his deep-set wrinkles creased deeper, and strain to smile. If I drop too far into this feeling, I'll crack and start sobbing.

I look at your hair in front of me, its silver-streaked beauty cascading down your back, brushed smooth in the middle and curled at the ends. Your purple suit makes you look so young, and so ripe, and so queenly. You are just as beautiful as the day I married you.

I see your shoulders shuddering as you try to stay composed, though everyone inside is expecting you to blubber throughout. I do too. And I will love you for it.

As the music changes to a stately processional, I see my dad place his hand over where yours is crooked in his elbow, giving you a reassuring pat as the door opens. You look back at me, eyes glistening with love, and then turn to the aisle that stretches in front of you. Your paces are measured and steady, in contrast with the quivering of your lip and the bouquet in your fist. I follow not far behind, wanting to be closer, wanting to celebrate with you just how beautiful our life has become. It is glaring, like looking into the sun.

In an effort to steady myself, I fix my eyes at the altar. There I see, in his strapping, anxious glory, our son. He is more of a man than we ever dreamed he would become. He sees you, and smiles, tears glistening in his eyes too. The two of you were built close to the water.

We make it to the front of the aisle and take turns wrapping our arms around him, feeling how solid he is, how gentle and giving and strong. Today is his proudest day, he told me, and that truth lodges in my chest, swelling and threatening to spill everywhere. Our son is getting married, and though most of our tears are happy and proud, it would be untrue to say I have none that are sad. I am sad. Every parent dreams that their child will find someone who loves them as much as they do, and he has. He has found a truth like ours, a love as deep and abiding as that of a parent for a child.

But it also means we have to give him away.

I feel that rip again, the rip of losing something precious and whole. I know I'm not losing him completely, but I don't know when I'll feel whole again, even with you by my side, hand clinging to my elbow to steady yourself. I watch as his eyes fix on his bride, and I am gutted with joy. I don't even try to wipe my tears. I just cry and smile and look at our boy.

And as you rest your head on my shoulder, I know it's true what they say:

The love in your heart wasn't put there to stay,  
Love isn't love 'til you give it away.


	10. Orientation

**Orientation**

* * *

"Here we are!" I chirped, seeing the number 404 on the shabby wooden door of Caleb's dormitory. I was being extra perky to keep both your nerves in check. You hadn't slept the night before, tossing and turning next to me, and if I know my son, he didn't either.

Caleb gave a stiff nod as I waited for him to enter. I wasn't going to barge into his room ahead of him. This was his experience. We've already had ours.

"Go ahead, sweetie," I said quietly. "We'll wait here."

Caleb gave a nervous nod and lifted his key to the doorknob. He opened it and held it there for a minute, looking inside.

Suddenly I flashed back to when he was little and wouldn't go into a new place without first sending Wabbit in to survey for danger. I thought about that love-worn toy now, tucked safely and secretly into one of the suitcases you were carrying. I almost wanted to freeze time and get it out just so I could have one final image of Caleb holding Wabbit out to look into a room before he entered.

But I wouldn't have dreamed of embarrassing him like that in his new school.

Caleb took a few steps forward, chin jutting forward to look past the wall of the closet that made the entryway to his room small.

"Is your roommate here yet?" you asked in a hushed voice.

"Is he hot?" Ruby piped up next to you.

You shot Ruby an disapproving glare before looking back at Caleb.

"Hey, are you Caleb?" a squeaky male voice asked from inside the room.

"Yeah," Caleb said, seeming to relax.

He took a few steps forward, letting the door swing closed behind him. I was glad we could still hear their conversation as they kept talking, and I knew Caleb was stepping forward with his best manners, offering his hand to his room mate.

"You must be Brandon," he said.

"So nice to meet you, Caleb!" a woman's voice said. "Are you all by yourself?"

"No, my moms are in the..." He trailed off and we heard the doorknob rattle before the door swung open again, revealed a much less anxious Caleb. "You guys can come in," he said. "Brandon and his mom are here."

You rushed forward, pulling a suitcase eagerly behind you, maneuvering past the awkwardly crowded doorway.

"Hello!" you sang, rolling forward as Ruby and I followed. "I'm Santana, Caleb's mama." I saw you extend your hand with you practiced, firm handshake.

"I'm Kathy," the woman said. "Brandon's mom."

"Nice to meet you," you said. Then you turned to where Ruby and I were struggling to fit into the doorway and said, "This is my wife Brittany and our daughter Ruby."

The wiry, brown-haired woman didn't even blink as she extended her hand to me, "Nice to meet you, Brittany, I'm Brandon's mom."

"Nice to meet you," I echoed.

Behind me, Ruby was jostling to get inside the bottleneck created by so many people and suitcases in such a small room.

"A bit small, huh?" Kathy smiled. "They'll adjust. Brandon doesn't take up much space."

"Mom..." Brandon whined.

I moved far enough into the room that I could see Brandon, and equally wiry boy with acne scars on his small jaw. He was exactly the kind of person I wanted me son to live with. I could almost picture him with headgear or a headlamp. He wasn't going to be getting too crazy or intimidate or alienate Caleb. They would get along just fine.

"So, uh, you play sports?" Brandon asked nervously, eying Caleb. They knew they'd been paired as roommates because they'd both been recruited for a sports team.

"I swim," Caleb said.

I saw Brandon visibly exhale, most likely relieved that Caleb wasn't a football or basketball player.

"Neat," said Brandon. "I'm on the fencing team."

"Cool," said Caleb. "I've never seen a fencing match."

"Oh, it's cool!" Brandon said, getting visibly excited. "I can explain it to you. I mean, if you want."

"That'd be great," Caleb said.

It was so reassuring to me that, for once, Caleb wasn't the most anxious person in the room besides you.

I glanced at Ruby and saw her frowning at Brandon, clearly disappointed that he wasn't hot. I don't know what she was hoping for; she was going back to Exeter in a week, so it wasn't like she'd have time to visit Caleb and hook up with his roommate.

You started talking nervously to fill the lull in conversation. "Sweetie, do you want to go pick up your Bed, Bath, and Beyond order? Everything's waiting for you on a pallet. We can go to the drug store too. Or go to the grocery store and get you some food to keep in here."

Knowing that your fretting would do nothing to ease Caleb into his new living situation - it would take him a few weeks to adjust no matter how comfortable we made him - I decided that what the boys needed was time to get acquainted and unpack without all the women in the room clucking like hens.

"Honey, we have time for that later," I said. I subtly reached for your hand. "There's a swim team parent orientation meeting in a few minutes we need to get to."

"Oh!" you said, looking startled. "Well then- Caleb, sweetie, will you call us if you need anything?"

Caleb gave a nod and his eyes flickered to me with a subtle, grateful expression. "Of course. I'll see you at the orientation dinner tonight."

"Okay," you said, maneuvering the suitcases so you could get out of the room. "But you can call before then."

Caleb nodded again and I reinforced my grip on your hand, steering you toward the door.

"Can I go check out the gym?" Ruby asked, her voice tinged with the adolescent whine we're used to hearing from her lately.

"Why do you want to go to the _gym_?" you frowned.

Ruby gave a shrug that meant it should be obvious to us.

You gave a reluctant sigh and said, "I suppose. There won't be much for you at the parent meeting anyway. But don't be late for dinner."

Ruby was already halfway out the door by the time I looked at her.

You turned back to Kathy. "So nice to meet you," you said, plastering on your business smile again. "I'm sure we'll see you at the dinner tonight."

"I'm sure," Kathy said, smiling. "Nice to meet you."

I put my other hand on your arm and guided you out into the hall.

There, your face fell from your business smile into a look of uninhibited worry.

"I hope they'll get along okay," you said.

"They will. Everyone likes Caleb," I assured you. "He's a nice boy."

"He is. Do you think Kathy likes him?"

"I'm sure she will."

"Did he pack his extra-"

"Sweetie," I said, gently hushing you. "We'll see him in a few hours. The world won't end before that."

You exhaled, realizing how anxious you were. "I just want him to settle in well."

I smiled and squeezed your hand. "He will."

You gave a hopeful nod. "Where's the meeting?" you asked.

I gave you a guilty smile. "There's no meeting. I just wanted to give him some space."

You stepped away, surprised at me. "So what are we gonna do for the next-" you glanced at your watch. "Two hours?"

I gave a coy shrug. "I don't know. But Ruby won't be coming to look for us and we do have a hotel room waiting for us a few miles away..."

"Brittany Pierce, you are sly," you chuckled, batting my arm.

I gave you a look of mock annoyance "Jeez, you'd think after eighteen years you'd remember my last name is _Lopez_-Pierce."

You looked surprised for a minute, then grinned. "Well, we're in a dorm... Last time we were in a dorm together, your last name was Pierce."

I gave your hand a squeeze as we reached the end of the hall. I lowered my voice. "Last time we were in a dorm together, I remember doing some pretty awesome stuff in an extra-long twin bed."

As we passed an empty dorm room with the door open, you slowed and then stopped, taking a few steps to peer in. You shot me a coy smile.

But when met with the sight of the dingy metal bed frame and old mattress, you wrinkled your nose and smiled at me. "The king-size bed waiting in our hotel room sounds more appealing these days."


	11. Runaway Ruby

**Runaway Ruby**

* * *

After three denied requests for cookies, five-year-old Ruby declared she was going to run away from home.

If you'd been there, Santana, you would have escalated and the two of you would have ended up shouting and stamping and I would have tried to drift upstairs and wait with Caleb until the stormclouds cleared. But you were still at work and I was going to handle this my own way.

The quickest way to take the wind out of Ruby's bellows is to put up no resistance.

"Did you hear me?" she demanded. "I'm running away!"

"I heard you," I said, turning to continue emptying the dishwasher.

"And I'm never coming back!" Ruby said, growing aggravated at my lack of dramatic reaction.

"We'll miss you, Roo," I said, trying not to sound too tired. No matter how much I love our daughter, I grow weary of her constant drama.

"And I won't even send you a card on your birthday!" Ruby threatened.

"Then I'll be sad," I said, tone clearly indicating I wasn't taking her bait.

"You're the worst mom ever!" Ruby screamed.

"I thought you said Mama was the worst yesterday when she wouldn't let you paint your bedroom walls with her nailpolish," I said, unable to resist a little challenge.

Ruby burned, glaring at me as I continued to calmly unload the dishwasher. Then she spun around and stomped up the stairs.

I could feel her anger radiating through the floor as she flung things around in her room. Caleb was upstairs and I was sure he would let me know if Ruby was doing something really bad like unplugging the cables to the computer or drawing on the walls. But he didn't appear, so I just let Ruby stomp around. A fire without any fuel goes out quicker than anyone expects.

Ruby marched down the stairs ten minutes later and stood in the doorway. She was holding her clear ballet bag and I could see she had stuffed her favorite doll, three pairs of a socks, a hairbrush, two pencils, and several of her favorite Fancy Nancy books inside.

"I'm leaving now!" she declared.

I gave her a placating smile and tilted my head. "Have a good trip," I said. "Don't forget to brush your teeth every night."

At that Ruby stumbled, looking down into her bag, no doubt realizing she hadn't packed her toothbrush. "I will," she said. "But I might not use toothpaste."

I gave an understanding nod and said, "Sometimes you have to make sacrifices when you're traveling light."

Ruby gave a confident bob of her head and held my gaze for a moment, hoping I would try to stop her. But I didn't, so she turned around and walked toward the door with much less pizazz than she had previously had. She took a minute to figure out the lock, but she got it, and then struggled to open the heavy door.

I followed a few yards behind her, staying as cool and collected as could be. She glanced back at me a few times as she walked down the stairs, pausing with both feet on each step on her way down. I just waved and wished her safe travels.

When she reached the lawn, your car came into view and the cabin rocked as you entered the driveway at an angle, straightening out as you drove up.

Seeing you, Ruby froze for a second. Then she looked back at me and strengthened her resolve that she was going to carry on with her "running away" nonsense. She gave you a stiff, angry expression and walked with her head high down to the sidewalk.

You turned off the engine and got out of the car. Ruby's steps sped up as she walked off the property in the direction of where Julie used to live.

You walked up to me with a curious expression and asked, "Where's she going?"

I crossed my arms in amusement and said, "Oh, she's running away. I'm the worst mom in the world, did you know?"

You chuckled and said, "I did know, actually. I'm surprised it's taken her this long to realize."

You put your hand on my elbow and leaned forward. Your tone became much more sweet and intimate as you kissed me on the lips. "How was your day, baby?"

"Pretty good," I said. "Ruby's just in a mood."

"She's always in a mood," you said. "How's Caleb?"

"Good, as far as I can tell," I said. "He's upstairs with his Legos."

You smiled and rubbed my arm for a moment before you glanced in the direction Ruby had just gone.

"How long until we go after her?" you asked, the first traces of concern appearing on your face.

I laughed and shook my head. "We don't," I said. "She'll be back any second."

You looked back at me and gave an unsure nod. You've always been more anxious than me when it comes to our kids. But if I know my daughter, I know she has even less survivalist skills than you, and that's saying something.

Sure enough, before I could even ask about your day, Ruby's head appeared as she peeked around the neighbor's hedge. I tilted my head toward her to alert you and you looked over.

"Hey, Roo," you said enthusiastically. "I heard you're running away. I wish you'd said goodbye before you left."

Ruby inched toward us, body becoming visible as she emerged from behind the hedge. She looked sheepish as she said, "Well... I forgot to give Simon his dinner before I left. And my tummy is gurgling a little bit. Can I run away after dinner?"

You gave her an adoring smile that held all the love and humor you have for our children. "Of course, baby. And if you change your mind about running away, maybe we can go together another day."

Ruby looked confused. "What do you mean?"

You let a little sparkle play in your eyes as you said, "You and I could run away tomorrow afternoon. Maybe go live at the mall."

Ruby's face lit up at your offer. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," you said. "As long as it's okay with Mom-ny." You turned to me, winking with the eye Ruby couldn't see. "What do you think, B?"

"I think..." I said, pausing to bite my lip. "That sounds fine, as long as you're home for dinner. And as long as you go get some nice dresses to wear to Zoe's birthday party the next day."

Ruby's excitement grew and she darted back up the lawn toward the door, almost dropping her runaway bag. "Okay!" she said. "We'll be home for dinner, I promise!"

She disappeared inside and we heard her call out for Simon as the door closed behind her.

Standing outside in the cool autumn evening, you slipped your arm around my waist, putting your head on my shoulder. "We got a good one, didn't we?" you murmured.

"Two good ones," I said, always careful to make sure Caleb is included.

"I was talking about a family drama queen, but yes," you said, sighing with happiness. "We got two perfect babies."

"It's because _we're_ so perfect," I said with a cocky smile.

"Totally," you agreed. "Perfect moms make perfect quirky babies." You nuzzled into me and I held you tighter.

Even if I tried, I couldn't dream up a better end to the day.


End file.
